Don't Stop Now
by Lokitty-the-Fluffy
Summary: Steve has finally found a girl. Funny, cute, and caring. Unfortunately for him, she also happens to be pierced, inked, and rebellious as hell - Not to mention, Canadian. But the question is, how much do outer appearances really weigh when it comes to love? - Steve/OC - Hints of Clint/Natasha and Loki/Tony - Strong language throughout
1. Chapter 1

**1. Hello  
**  
Steve hated everything about Tony's parties. He hated the music, loud and obnoxious and hardly worthy of even being called music. He hated the atmosphere, all sex, money and fame. He hated the pronounced feeling of alienation, that he simply didn't belong there. But most of all, he hated that Tony always insisted on him going to them.

"It'll help you adjust," Tony claimed when he protested, and, without fail, he managed to get him to suffer through every single Goddamn party he held. They didn't help him adjust; they took the existing estrangement and just made it worse. He had no idea how people in modern society acted, or how he felt about being there. It was all in all a very uncomfortable, awkward, difficult mess. Unfortunately for Steve, it was also ridiculously entertaining for Tony to watch.

"Are you sure I should be here?" he asked in a worried tone, fighting back the urge to sneak away. "I mean, it's all just really-"

"Chill out, Cap," he paused for a moment and smiled at the unintentional pun. "I mean, you've done it for seventy years, you should finally shed that icy exterior of yours," he further explained, giving him a smirk and a clap on the back with his free hand, the other draped lazily on a woman's hip. She snuggled into his side and batted her eyelashes at him, and the soldier couldn't help but feel bad for the poor girl. It was obvious even to him that she would be gone by morning.

"Can it be later?" he muttered under his breath, avoiding looking the girl in the eye.

"No, it can't. Go sit with the other California Girls why don't you?" The girl was gone and replaced a moment later by a scotch on the rocks. "I refuse to let you leave until you've at least picked up an above average girl. It's my patriotic duty to get you laid."  
Steve glared at him through his embarrassment, wrestling against the urge to punch him in the jaw.

"You're really not helping,"

"Look, its ridiculously easy, even for someone stuck in the time warp. Here's a great pickup line, consider it a gift: 'Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Hey, I was probably hard from the ice, but I'm Captain-fucking-America; let's have sex.',"  
He started, giving Tony a disapproving and disbelieving look once he regained his composure.

"Tony! There are ladies here, don't swear like that!" he hissed in the sort of tone parents did when they wanted their kids to behave. The playboy billionaire rolled his brown eyes skyward and gave him a long-suffering look.

"I'm not gonna waste the night trying to convince you to get laid, so I'm just gonna leave you here and hope you fumble into a woman easy enough to screw you from a hello," with a smile and another harder-than-necessary slap on his back, Tony left him to flounder in panic. Steve sighed, leaning his elbows on the bar and rubbing his eyes tiredly, attempting to ward off the growing headache the music and strobe lights were giving him. He really didn't belong in a place like that. He really didn't belong in that time period. Who was Tony kidding? He wasn't going to fit in, he wasn't going to acclimatize, and he certainly wasn't going to have casual sex like he wanted him to. It just wasn't how he was raised. Wearily, he glanced to his right and started. A girl sat nearby on a bar stool, her six-inch-heel ankle boots dangling off the ground and her slender, ring coated fingers closed around a shot glass. She wore hip-hugging jeans and a thin grey-and-white striped sweater over a black tank top.

He wasn't quite sure if it was the strobe lights or not, but her hair appeared to be purple.

She looked over at him, then, and he bit back a gasp at her face. It was startling, at least to him. A small stud glinted on the right of her nose, and rings were visible on both of her eyebrows. Her ears were each adorned with six piercings, and her plump lips had a double piercing on the lower. Her right cheekbone was tattood with two stars, and black and navy liner and eye shadow rimmed her eyes. He swallowed, not quite sure how to react to that much metal, makeup and ink on one person's relatively small, innocent face.

"Something interesting you, buddy?" she said in an even tone, amusement in her voice. He blinked, trying to remember how to speak. And how to not look at her piercings and not her eyes.

"Wh- Uh, no. No, no I was just, um..." don't look at her piercings don't look at her piercings don't look at her piercings don't look at her-

"Just wondering; you keep looking at my piercings,"

Dammit.

"Ah- Sorry, ma'am. I, uh... Yeah,"

Smooth Steve, real smooth.

"You're forgiven," she rolled her eyes but a smile twitched her dark red lips.

Before he could say anything more, a blonde woman with a startlingly short skirt bounced (or, more accurately, stumbled) over to him, batting her eyelashes and leaning (tipping) forward in her low-cut blue shirt.

"Are you Steve Rogers?" she asked (slurred) in a high voice, hair tousled and falling in messy waves over her shoulders.

"Yes, ma'am, I am," he replied hesitantly, debating on sitting her down on one of the couches and telling her everything would be alright. She gave an excited little squeal and latched onto his arm, beaming at him with unnaturally white teeth.

"Tony told me to find you!" she cooed. "I'm Alyssa. So um... What brings a cute guy like you to one of Tony's parties? Are you, like, his friend or something?" He shuffled uneasily, deeply uncomfortable but at the same time not wanting to hurt her feelings. He reluctantly allowed her to cling onto his bicep and gave her a weak attempt at a smile.

"I'm, uh, one of his teammates,"

"Well, I'm glad you came. A little eye candy goes a long way, you know," she winked at him, and he cast a panicked look in Tony's direction. He grinned back deviously.

"Uh, heh... Thanks," Her olive-green eyes drifted to his empty hands and arched a brow at that.

"Aren't you going to buy yourself a drink?"

"I don't drink," he replied. There was amusement in his voice, and he couldn't help smiling a the joke only he and the Avengers understood.

"Then you should buy me one!" she giggled, stroking his chest playfully. He flushed bright red and she took advantage, smiling at him, biting her lip as she did. "Or, you know, don't. I'm probably too drunk now, anyway. So how long are you staying here?"

"Uh, T-Tony said something about not letting me leave until he's satisfied with how many women I've talked to," he chuckled nervously. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his.

"Or maybe go just far enough with the right one," she winked. He blushed furiously and she giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist with a sly smile on her lips. Panicking, his eyes darted around the room for something - anything - to distract her with. When he happened a glance at the girl on the bar stool, he was surprised to see her watching with an amused expression on her face, lips curved into a smile, cheek resting on her hand. He gave her a pleading look, and she smiled back, downing the last of her drink before hopping off the stool and squealing loudly.

"Lissy!" she shrieked in an overly excited tone, waving energetically at Alyssa. She looked over, shocked, then burst out in an equally loud noise, releasing Steve and opened her arms, meeting her halfway in a tight hug. He took a relieved breath, wiping his only-slightly-sweaty palms on his pants.

"Hey, girl!" she said, leaning back with her hands on her friend's shoulders, looking her up and down. "You look great!"

"Oh, thanks! You too!" she gushed, giving Steve a pointed look while the blonde was distracted. He took the hint and came over.

"You two know each other?" he asked. Alyssa nodded.

"We met at a concert a while back - She's one of my BFFs!"

"Lissy, we need to hang out, okay?"

"Yes yes yes! Text me!" she bounced excitedly, clapping her hand together. He gaped, blinking in astonishment. How could one woman make so much unnecessary noise? The other girl caught the look and grinned, then turned her attention back to her drunk friend.

"So, um, how about you go hang out with Tony?" she said delicately, taking the smallest step back and giving Steve a little, slightly possessive, nudge. He glanced at her in surprise and she gave him a pointed scowl; He realized what she was doing, then, and tried to look bashful. Thankfully, he was very good at that.

"Oh..." she said. Then her eyes widened. "OH! Oh my God, I am so sorry, I totally didn't know! Okay, I'll see you later, then," she leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks before retreating with an apologetic smile. "Sorry!" she repeated before disappearing in the crowd, presumably off to find the host. He looked down at her, then, and noticed just how small she was. She couldn't have been over five-one. His miniscule rescuer turned her dark eyes to his and smiled.

"You're welcome," she said brightly, taking a seat on the leather bar stool and smiling at him.

"Thank you," he said too late with a grateful - and very weary - sigh. "I had no idea what to do,"

"Clearly not; She was practically undressing for you," she said cheerfully, resting her toes on the crossbeam between the stool's legs as he sat on the bar stool beside hers. His grimace was slightly aghast.

"Was she? Yeesh..."

"You seem to be the most reluctant guy to get laid here, do you know that? Even that guy over there is getting some tonight," she nodded in the direction of a very large man who Steve immediately noticed as Thor in casual clothes, dancing like a madman, and he bit back a laugh. Thor had taken a shine to Tony's parties, much to the billionaire's pleasure. He was determined to learn every possible method of dancing, and had currently started experimenting with something Tony had called "grinding" which Steve really didn't want to know the details of based on its name.

"Yeah, well, I'm not here for, uh... That," he said with a sheepish smile after tearing his eyes off of the only slightly scarring image of the god of thunder grinding on the dance floor. "Call me old-fashioned," he added as an afterthought, shrugging slightly.

"You're not looking for a one-night stand at a Tony Stark party?" she gave him a disbelieving glance, her eyes flickering up and down his form, making him self-conscious. He briefly suspected she had x-ray vision, going by the way she smirked at him when she was finished. "You really are out of place,"

"Tell me about it," he sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly and leaning his elbows on the cold marble top of the bar.

"Why not leave?" she piped up after a moment or two, sounding amused, still.

"There's something I've been asking myself all night. But I don't think Tony'll let me go until he's convinced I 'got some', as he likes to put it,"

She gave him a studying look, a calculating frown on her face. His eyes drifted in her direction as she appraised him, and he raised an eyebrow at her expression. She was very... intent.

"You should've let Lissy have sex with you," she said decidedly after a few minutes. He stared at her, flushing. She stared back evenly, without emotion.

"No, I don't think I'll be doing that," he said finally with a nervous half-chuckle. She quirked a brow at that.

"It's just sex, and if it's your get out of jail free card, so to speak, then why not?"

"Just se-? It's not just- How can you say it's 'Just sex'?"

"Oh, please. It's a penis in a vagina, don't try to romanticize it," she said calmly with a roll of her eyes and a dismissive wave of her hand, prompting his face to turn dark red. He hadn't expected her to be so blunt about it.

"Well, I guess I just really don't look at it the same way as you do," he said carefully and somewhat bitterly, turning his sights to the suddenly very interesting patterns in the marble bar. She cocked her head to the side, keeping her eyes on him.

"Are you telling me you're a virgin?" she said with a disbelieving expression. He frowned, pursing his lips slightly.

"Pardon me, ma'am, but I don't think that's any of your business," he retorted defensively. She made a face at the "Ma'am", but quickly became interested.

"Holy shit, you are! How old are you?" she demanded, appearing to be thrilled with this news.

"You don't want me to answer that," he replied a minute later, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a private smile.

"Well you're definitely too old to be a virgin. You should be a virgout by now," she said with a corny grin, glancing at him sideways as she turned her small body on her seat to face the bar.

"Clever," he said sarcastically, but his laugh was genuine. She beamed at him. "I don't think I caught your name,"

"I didn't catch yours, either," she countered sharply, but she was smiling. He liked her smile, he decided. It made her look much less scary.

"Sorry; Steve Rogers, at your service," he offered a half-smile, extending his hand to her. She gave his hand a quizzical look before shaking it.

"Victoria May. So... You're Captain America, then?"

"How'd you know?" he asked, blinking. She gave him a playful smile, and a knot twisted uncomfortably in his chest. What had he asked, again?

"Well..." she mused. "It's really not all that difficult to figure out. Besides, there's a plaque with your name on it in Central Park that sort of takes away what little mystery there was to begin with,"


	2. Chapter 2

**2. You're Trouble**

Steve quickly learned something about Victoria. She was... fiery. In less flattering terms; she was snarky, sharp, and opinionated. But it didn't _feel _like she was. Any scathing comment or cutting remark she made was softened and dulled somehow by the way she smiled. She wasn't a people person, but she had charisma. It was a very good example of pure irony.

The two had been chatting idly for a little over an hour. She was constantly smiling, but he'd yet to hear her laugh. He couldn't decide whether she just didn't laugh, or if she didn't find anything funny enough to laugh at. It was his current mission to get her to at least chuckle, but he was having trouble. To his credit, though, it was kind of difficult to have a long conversation at one of Tony Stark's parties, when every other sentence one of them was interrupted by someone casually asking if they wanted a drink, a not-so-subtle code for "Do you want to have sex with me?"

It had been at least half an hour since their last uninvited guest, but all good things come to an end. She happened a glance over her shoulder and her smile abruptly vanished. "Shit!" she muttered, turning to face the bar and hunching over it slightly.

"Something wrong?"

"No, it's fine. Just- Ah _hell_..."  
A medium-height man with short hair and a stud in his ear approached Victoria, a self-confident look on his face and the strong scent of alcohol surrounding him like a cloud. She glanced at him briefly, wrinkling her nose as he slid an arm around her back, confusing Steve. Did she have a boyfriend? The newcomer gave her a smile, hooded eyes twinkling in a strangely disconcerting way. She glared, and he lost (a little) of the idea that this man was her boyfriend.

"Hey, babe, fancy seeing you here. Can I getch'a drink?" he said, giving her a grin. She shoved his shoulder, scowling.

"Take your hands off me, asshole," she growled. He caught her hand, still smiling, despite her struggling to wrench her wrist from his grip.

"Don't say that, you know you like it,"

"Mark, I swear to God-" she cut off as his hand went around her waist and settled on her hip, releasing her wrist and placing his now-free hand on her thigh. Her face was livid. "Get your fucking paws _off _before I break your fingers! I mean it, you know I'll do it!" there was a distinct glint of fear in her tone and her eyes, and as he just grinned and leaned closer to her, Steve had seen enough.

"Hey," he said, and he glanced at him, vague frustration on his face. Victoria looked relieved. "You should leave her alone," he warned, his expression screaming not-to-be-messed-with.

"Whatever, man, it's none of your business," he retorted, his hold tightening on her hip. She made a disgusted noise, flushing, and threw her shoulder hard into his chest, but to little avail.

"Let her go,"

"And why the hell should I?" His hand slid slowly up her thigh, and, quick as a flash, the soldier he caught him by the wrist, yanking it back and off her leg. He stood, still firmly gripping his wrist, straightening up to his full, rather impressive, height, and Mark's eyes widened slightly. He was easily four inches taller than him, not to mention obviously stronger.

"Because the lady asked you to," he said, perfectly calm. She wrestled against the arm still tight around her, and when he finally let go, she fell forward, stumbling into Steve with a disgruntled puff of breath. He released the man's arm and steadied Victoria, looking her up and down briefly before stepping in front of her ever so slightly, giving the man across from him a solid glare. "You gotta learn to respect a woman's choice," he said in that same calm tone, every inch of him screaming silent disapproval.

"Yeah, screw you, asshole," Victoria put a hand on Steve's chest, looking up at him and giving him a cautioning expression as she pushed him back gently. He got what it meant. Don't start any fist fights.

"Get lost, Mark," she said, and promptly steered her rescuer to a different bar stool, taking the one opposite him for herself, all but climbing onto it. She huffed a relieved breath, asking the bartender for a drink. "Thanks, Steve," she sighed, scooting her seat closer to his as Mark left.

"It's no problem. Did you know that guy?" he asked, trying his very best to stop glaring at his retreating back.

"He dated my friend for a while and when I convinced her to dump his sorry ass he made it his personal mission to get back at me. Hence the rapey aura about him,"

"Nice," he said sarcastically, frowning at the ground.

"Tell me about it," she sighed, pulling the drink towards her and fiddling with the base of the glass, tapping her nails against it. "I owe you one,"

"I was just doing what anyone would do," he said with a glance in her direction. _What anyone _should_ do, _he corrected himself. Victoria's expression softened.

"You're really something, y'know that?" she said, her smile still playing around the corners of her lips.

"Is that a compliment?" he asked, not quite sure with her. She smirked broadly, and turned her attention to the glass she was playing with, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip of her drink in a contemplative manner before returning her attention to him.

"You can figure that part out," she winked, and he blushed, much to his chagrin. He swallowed slightly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, and he was surprised to hear her - finally - laugh. He raised his eyebrows at her, but smiled at her laughter.

"You have a nice laugh," he got out, eyes on hers. "You should use it more often,"

"Blush more, and maybe I will," She was leaning against the bar now, arms crossed on it, body towards it, but her face and eyes set on him. She was still looking at him with something he couldn't place, her eyes flashing different colours in the strobe lights but retaining their sparkle, and she was smiling again, her plump lips pulled up in that amused smile of hers, like she was laughing privately at some secret joke. It was a nice smile. It took some of the focus off her relatively scary appearance.

"What?" he asked finally, wondering what could be so interesting.

"Nothing. It's just weird meeting someone who's not an asshole," she downed the last half of her drink and stood, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a few bills for the tips jar. She smiled at him, somewhat apologetically. "I should be going; I don't wanna run into him again,"

"Can I walk you home? I'd feel better knowing you got back safely," he chewed the inside of his cheek, blushing slightly. He really didn't like the look of that guy. She paused, looking thoughtful.

"Didn't you say Tony wouldn't let you leave unless you were gonna be nailing someone?" she said finally, fingers reaching up to twist one of her earrings absent-mindedly. She considered him for a minute, her eyes on his face, biting her lip slightly. Then she smiled widely and came over to him, standing up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck. Before he could ask her what she was doing, her lips were pressed firmly against his, and he seized up. She pulled back slightly, smiling at the shock in his eyes.

"I owe you one - let's get you out of here," she smirked. He stammered, unable to make a sound other than babbling nonsense. "Calm down, it's just to get you away from the party," she laughed. He swallowed, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. The last time he'd kissed a woman was seventy years ago, and he still had little to no clue about it. For all he knew, it was different now and he'd do something glaringly wrong. He really wasn't eager to make a fool of himself. If it was to get him away from Tony's party, though...

"O-Okay," he stammered, blushing furiously. She beamed at him.

"Excellent. Now put your hand on my ass,"

"What?!"

"Your hand. Put it on my ass,"

"Why?!"

"Jesus, Steve, you really don't know how hooking up works, do you? We gotta make it convincing,"

"I-I don't think that's-"

"Oh for Christ's sake," she took his hand and placed it on her backside, then leaned against him and kissed him again, lightly. "Now look like you're into it," she said with a smirk, and her lips were back on his.

He panicked.

Oh God. Oh_ God_. Oh Jesus. Oh- Oh. Well. Okay, then. You only live once, right?

Tentative as a schoolgirl, he moved his lips against hers, his free arm wrapping around to encircle her back. Against his more chronically shy side, he left his other hand alone. She tightened her arms around his neck, pressing herself tightly against his chest, pulling away slightly for a quick breath before bringing her lips back to his with a little more force, and she glanced over to the left and smirked at the almost identical look Tony and Alyssa were giving them. She almost laughed, but he was surprisingly distracting, even for someone who had no clue what he was doing. She figured she might as well enjoy herself.

When they broke apart she smiled at him warmly, keeping her hold around his neck and her body against his. He was blushing like crazy and he knew it, but that was really the last thing on his mind just then.

"I think it had the desired effect," she said quietly, and he looked - slightly dazed - over at the billionaire, who, looking proud as all hell, grinned and gave him a military salute. Steve smiled in relief, turning his attention back to her.

"Thanks," he said breathlessly. She laughed a little, pulling him to stand up, sliding her arm around his back.

"Don't mention it," she smirked, half pulling and half guiding him to the elevator doors. "Oh, and... You should probably keep your hand on my ass. Y'know... For good measure,"

He didn't feel as bad about complying as he probably should have.

* * *

_**Yes, I did compare Steve to a schoolgirl. Enjoy the mental image. ;P**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I know, I know, long-ass break between chapters. So sorry about that, Supernatural stole my life for a little while. But my Avengers blu-ray came in the mail, so I'm back on my Avenger-streak~ **__**The chapter title is taken from a very romantic 30s - 40s song called When We First Kissed Last Night - I'd give it a listen.**_

_**Also, enjoy some FrostIron. Or tolerate it. Whichever.**_

* * *

**3. Was it a dream, or were you really there?**

The next day when Steve entered the room in Stark Tower dubbed the "Party Deck" by the billionaire, he wasn't exactly surprised to see the biggest mess he had encountered yet in the tower. What looked suspiciously like confetti was littered on the floor, a few pieces of furniture were damaged and splintered, some glasses had obviously been broken, there was a bra hanging haphazardly from one of the ceiling lamps, and the Norse God of Thunder was flaked out on his front, sleeping - or passed out - in the fur-lined circular indent in the floor, snoring loudly. Tony himself was sitting on one of the couches around the indent, not nearly as messy as the room, but close, his hair sticking up as if he'd slept with his head against a wall.

"Looks like I missed one heck of a party," he commented, giving a mildly amused look at the room. Tony glanced up at him and his face lit up with a wide, devious smile, the kind that really made him look like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You!" he said excitedly, jabbing a finger at him for emphasis. "Give me details! And spare nothing,"

"Details?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He sat on the relatively clean couch opposite him, giving him a perplexed look. He appeared way too happy for Steve's taste. When Tony Stark smiled like that, something potentially bad, embarrassing or dangerous was definitely about to happen. He smirked broadly and leaned back, chuckling.

"You know exactly what I mean. That little goth chick you left with last night. You got lucky, didn't you?" he grinned, resting his arm on the back of the couch. Despite the fact nothing happened (Well, not nothing, exactly. He had kissed her and his hand had been in her back pocket but other than that...) Steve felt himself flush faintly at the thought. He shook his head, chuckling quietly.

"Nothing happened," he said, giving him a shrug. Tony pursed his lips.

"I call bullshit. Was it or was it not your hand on her ass?"

"It... Might've been," he admitted, fighting back a smile. Might as well tell him what actually happened. "We didn't do anything after we left, she was just helping me get out of your party,"

"Ignoring that painful statement... Did she give you the option to sleep with her?" he asked seriously, his tone as grave as it got for him.

"Well, yes. But I didn't accept, I just walked her home,"

Tony stared at him for a solid minute, disbelieving. Steve wrestled against the urge to laugh at his expression, and gave him a pleasant smile. He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face like he was embarrassed to know him, and looked at him with such concern that you would think he had told him he was dying.

"Unbelievable. You cock-blocked yourself," he said finally, sounding physically pained.

The soldier was about to retort when a curvy woman entered the room, wearing what appeared to be nothing but Tony's shirt from the night before. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd seen her before. She tucked a lock of her long, tousled black hair behind her ear as she came up behind the couch, wrapping slender arms around Tony's neck and slipping her hands under the collar of his shirt, tapping her fingers against the ARC reactor gently.

"Good morning," she purred quietly, kissing the corner of his jaw. He chuckled in a somewhat prideful way, touching his lips briefly to hers.

"Morning, gorgeous," he smirked. The woman turned her attention to Steve, arching an elegant brow at him. She had very green eyes. There was something sharp, something electric in them. Something familiar and... Odd.

"Tony, you did not do what I think you did," he said, suddenly realizing where he knew those eyes from. The playboy sniggered, lifting mildly guilty eyes to his.

"I think you mean 'who' not 'what'..." he trailed off with a mischievous look. "And, yeah, I did,"

"It's been a week since Pepper left you," he pointed out, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He shrugged as Loki came and sat himself- er... herself - down beside him, tucking her feet underneath her and leaning into his side companionably, oddly reminiscent of a cat, somehow. Steve set his mouth in a hard line, exhaling through his nose. It was so very, very like Tony to do this.

"Your point?" he replied, slipping an arm around Loki's waist and avoiding looking at him by tucking his face into their former enemy's neck and proceeding to kiss it. Oh boy.

"You know exactly what my point is, Tony! You're just replacing her with Loki!"

"If I may interject," she cut in lazily, arms looping around her new plaything's neck as he continued to press kisses over hers. "If this... Pepper woman left him, why should he not replace her with a higher model?" she smirked, then, that undeniably Loki smirk, and kept her green gaze steady on his blue, her expression impassive.

"Higher-?! You threw him out a window, and leveled half of New York City!" he cried, wondering if he was the only sane one left in the tower. The Norse God on the floor stirred suddenly at that, grunting in his sleep.

"Details, darling, minor details," she chuckled as her eyes slid smoothly shut, slender fingers twining through Tony's hair and tilting her head back idly. Steve sighed, rubbing his eyes. There were just some things you could never get through Tony Stark's head. Sleeping with the enemy was one of them. Speaking of sleeping, the God/Goddess-Of-Apparently-Malleable-Gender's brother seemed to have woken. He groaned, sounding startlingly like a grizzly bear, and pushed himself off the floor and onto his hands and knees, messy hair sticking up and tangled and covering almost all of his face.

"Ah, you're awake," Loki smirked, opening her emerald eyes to look at him with smug satisfaction. He took a moment, frowning, to study her, his expression one of deep concentration. It seemed to dawn on him who it was in his teammate's lap a minute or so later, because his face flew very quickly from confusion to shock. He sighed wearily, sitting with a thump that Steve swore shook the floor a bit.

"Loki, what have you done?" he muttered in a weary tone, pushing his hair off his face tiredly.

"We already answered that question," Tony said against his new squeeze's skin, seeming entirely unfazed by her easily angered brother on the floor. "She did me, I did her, Cap did no-one, as expected..." he trailed off, chuckling in unison with the black-haired Goddess.

"I thought you claimed Captain Rogers to be 'getting lucky' last night," he said in a slightly accusing tone, appearing scandalized that he was misinformed. He looked over at Steve, who was, at this point, shrinking slowly into his seat in his growing embarrassment. He pressed his lips in a hard line and looked out the window in an effort not to meet the Thunder God's gaze.

"Yeah, well, I don't think taking advantage of a vulnerable dame's very nice," he said defensively, huffing an aggravated breath out of his nose.

"Rightly so, Captain," Thor rumbled approvingly, hauling himself unsteadily to his feet. "One should not mistreat a woman," and Steve glanced up just in time to see him shoot the billionaire a stern look. He smiled and shook his head, standing up as well and slapping a hand onto his back in a friendly manner.

"Glad you see it my way," he smirked. He gave a quick look at the two getting busy on the couch and very quickly dismissed the idea of bothering to say goodbye, instead walking out of the room with Thor. "I'd give Tony a talking to if I were you, buddy. Don't want him messing with your sister," he said when they were out of ear shot, an amused grin on his face.

"Oh, do not worry about that, Captain. I intend to have some very stern words with Stark if he means to continue on with my broth... Sister," he corrected himself, a throaty chuckle leaving him. Steve couldn't help but like the guy - he was too good natured not to like. He nodded once, hitting the elevator button once he was at the doors. "I may have missed it while I was slumbering... Are you not spending your day here?"

"Nah. I've had just about enough Tony today already," he said with a genuine, if a little bit weary, smile. "I'm just gonna go get myself some coffee and try and get reacquainted with the city. It's... There's still a lot I have to familiarize myself with,"

The Norse God nodded sympathetically and clapped him on the shoulder with one huge hand as the elevator doors opened. "I wish you luck, then, and I shall see you soon,"

"Yeah. I'll see ya, Thor,"

* * *

One thing that had definitely improved since the 40s was coffee. Definitely better than he remembered it being, though maybe he just appreciated things a little more now that he had been given a surprising extension on his life. At least that were some things to be thankful for. Good coffee. Good coffee and falling leaves. New York was on the mend after the Chitauri incident in the Summer, and the city was more or less rebuilt, and life went on. It was all still pretty foreign to him, and there was an awful lot he still had to learn, but with every passing day it seemed a bit less weird and a bit less different.

Thankfully, Central Park was pretty much the same as it had been in his day. A good deal of the original buildings were recognizable around it, and they hit him with a lot of nostalgia, which might've been a tad masochistic for him to seek out, but he couldn't help it. Walking through Central Park was pretty calming on a crisp Autumn day despite the nostalgia, especially with a cup of coffee in hand, and God knew he could use a little calmness in his life.

His thoughts eventually settled and he glanced up from his moving feet to see a familiar, purple-haired girl crouched by a tree with a camera held up to her eye, appearing to be taking pictures of the falling leaves. She looked over, suddenly, and a smile lit up her face when she saw him.

"Stay right where you are," Victoria said, adjusting the camera lens momentarily. He raised an eyebrow but obliged, one hand tucked in his coat pocket as she snapped a picture. She studied the result before standing up, her own cup of coffee clutched tight in her hand as she did. "You have one hell of a nice face, Cap," she said matter-of-factly, walking over to him and putting her camera carefully into her shoulder bag. She looked up at him, the tip of her nose pink from the chill in the air. "Hi,"

"Hi," he laughed, surprised to see her again. He deeply wanted to know what she was doing taking pictures of leaves, but he figured everyone had their reasons for what they did. "Fancy meeting you here,"

"Oh, so it _is _a coincidence. Good, I wouldn't want to have to file a restraining order against America's favourite superhero," she teased, pulling her woolen hat a little further over her ears. "Walk with a girl, wouldya?" she implored, walking ahead before he could reply. He shrugged a shoulder and fell into step beside her, giving her an amused smile as she took the lid off her coffee and licked the foam off the underside appreciatively. Distracting as that was, he was having a hard time not staring at the metal hooks in just about every piercable part of her face. She smiled and put the lid back on, holding the cardboard cup with chilly fingers.

"You're staring,"

"Am I?"

"At my piercings, I presume. My face isn't that interesting,"

"It is, actually... Under all that makeup,"

She raised her eyebrows, craning her neck to look up at him, disbelief all over her expression but amusement in the twinkle of her eyes and the set of her black-cherry coloured lips. "You don't approve of the makeup, _Captain_?" she asked in a challenging tone, white teeth tugging lightly at the lower one tantalizingly. He shifted a bit, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It's not to say I don't approve, ma'am. I'm just not used to seeing... So much on one face," he explained in as delicate a way as he could, still pretty unsure of how to act with modern women. Hell, he didn't even know how to act around women in his day. Thankfully, she was laughing, and he relaxed, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I like how it looks. I'm a very big fan of the punk rocker look. Makes me feel like I'm still a rebellious teenager," she chuckled, blowing on her drink before having a gulp of it.

"You were a rebellious teenager?"

"My dad was a cop, I would've been shot before age eighteen if I was rebellious. I was a good girl. But this makes me feel like I was one, and that's nice," she smirked, looking rather proud of herself for some reason.

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, enjoying the little perks that were warm coffee, cold, crisp air and colour-changing leaves. She seemed very at ease with everything, from the way she walked to the way she spoke as loudly and as freely as she liked, she had a very easy air about her. She would stop every few minutes and pass her cup to him, then whip out her camera and take a snapshot of something. Then she would look at the results, tuck her gadget away again, reclaim her coffee, and on they would go.

Eventually they returned to idle chatting, talking about anything and everything. He liked her subtle brand of sarcasm and wit. It wasn't as overbearing as Tony's, which he was definitely thankful for, and her smile proved infectious, as it was ever present, even if only a little bit. The subject was changed to him, and what it was like being in the future, and if he had expected anything that they had, or if it was all alien to him. She snorted into her drink when he (grudgingly) admitted he had expected Howard Stark's flying car concept to be at least functional at this point in time.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh at that," she choked, wiping at her watering eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. "Really, I'm sorry, that was mean,"

"It's fine," he said, smiling at her reaction. "To be honest, it sounded a little foolish to me, too, as I said it,"

Victoria beamed at him and hooked her arm through his amiably, resting her head on his shoulder (Or, rather, upper arm, with her vertical handicap) and sighing contentedly. "You're a brave guy, Steve. I gotta say, if I was in your place, I'd be freaking out,"

He was silent, taking a moment to let himself think that over. He guessed he was handling it better than expected, but there was still so much that confused and surprised the hell out of him. It was all a lot to take in, especially all at once. There were some things that were still the same, though, and that was a comfort.

"It's a shame you missed the rest of the forties, though," she said in a sad voice, turning her dark brown eyes to his blue. He raised an eyebrow at that, tilting his head a bit.

"What do you mean?"

"You missed It's A Wonderful Life, arguably the best movie ever made. You watched James Stewart movies, right?"

"You know who James Stewart is?" he asked, shocked to find someone who knew the films. He'd assumed that his movies had been forgotten like pretty much everything from the 1900s seemed to be.

"I _love _that man," she sighed passionately, tightening her grip on his arm. "You've missed so much..."

"Guess I gotta catch up on a lot of stuff,"

"Yeah... Let me help you with that," Victoria pulled him down a new path with a purposeful stride, looking very determined about something.

"Uh... Sorry?"

"We're having a movie day,"


End file.
